


Blood Debts

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k19 [24]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Gore, Death, Delirium, Fever, Fever Dreams, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Illnesses, Life Debt, Medical Experimentation, Mind Control, Prompt: Race Against The Clock, Recovery, Sick Keith (Voltron), Team as Family, Visions, War, just a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25252882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Once upon a time, the Galra had been an honorable people, who lived with honor and paid their debts. Not all of them have forgotten.
Relationships: Acxa & Keith (Voltron), Acxa & Narti (Voltron), Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k19 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554010
Comments: 17
Kudos: 246
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Blood Debts

**Author's Note:**

> I did take some liberty with Narti's abilities, since she wasn't really around long enough for us to see all of them, but I hope y'all enjoy anyway.

Acxa was braced for the worst. 

She’d just reported back after her mission to the Weblum. Which meant she had to explain to Lotor that the Paladins of Voltron had seen her there. And, given that their entire plan revolved around not being noticed until Lotor had the opportunity to take the throne from his father, being spotted could mean disaster. 

But he showed no signs of displeasure. The Prince merely tilted his head and murmured to himself, “I wonder what they need all of that scaultrite for.” 

Then he smirked and dismissed her without another word. 

Acxa stopped just outside the door, letting out a heavy breath. It had been almost a quintant since she left the Weblum, but no matter how long or hard she thought about it, she still couldn’t understand why the Paladin had saved her. Even after he realized who she was, he just kept protecting her, and at the end, he didn’t seem angry that she’d betrayed him. Just… disappointed. 

She started as something soft brushed against her shin. Looking down, she found Kova weaving between her feet. And when Acxa looked back up, there was Narti. 

Despite her whirling thoughts, Acxa felt a smile pulling at her lip. She’d never know how Narti always managed to sneak up on her. 

“Hello, Narti.”

Kova leapt up into Narti’s arms. Narti’s eyeless face showed no expression, as usual, but Kova tilted her head curiously and let out a questioning mew. 

“It’s nothing.”

Narti’s tail flicked, and Kova narrowed her eyes. Damn, was she that obvious?

“I’ll tell you later. I need a bath-- climbing inside a massive planet eating organism is a dirty job.”

Kova wrinkled her nose in agreement. Just for that, Acxa made sure to give her a thorough pet before heading for her bunk. 

It was on her way there that Acxa made her decision: it didn’t matter why that Paladin did what he did. It had no impact on her personally, and if the Paladins’ presence was significant strategically, Lotor would be the one making those decisions. 

All she had to do was follow orders.

* * *

A movement later, Acxa and Narti were called in to receive their next mission. Acxa knew what the ships would need next-- a certain metal compound to coat exposed wiring-- but she didn’t know where Lotor planned to acquire it. 

So she was rather surprised when he pulled up a map she had been studying just the day before. 

“Sholar?” she asked. “Sir, wasn’t that planet conquered by the Empire yesterday?”

He gave her a sly smile. “It was indeed, Acxa. My father wanted it for the same reason we do, for the mines rich in celmur. However, Empire troops have yet to begin the occupation.”

There was something in his voice. A hint. Acxa frowned and looked down at the map, but the purple hologram revealed nothing besides a name and planet’s coordinates. Leaping down from her perch on Narti’s shoulder, Kova batted at the planet, making the hologram bob in place. 

Acxa had to declare defeat. “Why haven’t they?”

With a wave of his hand, Lotor swept the map away to be replaced by another, this one showing a large city surrounded by three Empire encampments. “Because, as a last act of defiance, the local species unleashed a virus they’d been developing as a weapon. It kills quickly, within forty vargas of exposure, and was engineered to target those of Galra descent.”

Acxa was careful to keep her surprise off of her face. She’d heard rumors of such viruses being developed, but had never seen any of them actually used. 

“So the Empire can’t install a proper occupation until the virus is dealt with.”

Lotor nodded to her. “Which leaves us an opening to obtain the materials we need.”

Narti reached out and set her hand on the surface of the map. It stuttered for a moment, then the image changed, now showing a combat drone, standard in the Empire’s army. 

“Yes, I expect there will be some drones there,” Lotor answered. “But I doubt they’ll pose much of an obstacle to the two of you.”

Kova trilled and leapt back onto Narti’s shoulder. 

“And what about the virus?” asked Acxa. “What precautions should we take?”

“Keeping your helmets sealed should be sufficient,” he said, distracted as he transferred the coordinates of their target into two hand held devices. “Just take care not to tear them on anything.”

Acxa snorted, and Kova’s tail flicked her ear as it thrashed. It was a joke-- only Zethrid was known for damaging her suit while on missions.

“Dismissed.”

* * *

The flight to Sholar was quiet. Narti didn’t speak, and Acxa was never one for meaningless chatter. It was nice, actually; Zethrid and Ezor tended to fill whatever room they were in with their voices. It was a welcome change of pace to have quiet without being alone. 

“We’re closing in,” Acxa said when the planet was in sight. Narti probably knew already, but Kova was currently asleep under the ship’s dashboard, so she couldn’t be sure. 

Narti obligingly buckled her safety harness. Then she tapped Acxa’s wrist, conveying an image of a disabled ship plummeting to the ground. Acxa brushed her off with a quiet laugh. 

“You know I’m a better pilot than that.”

Narti raised her hand to eye level and pressed her index finger to her thumb, her sign for amusement. 

“I’m rolling my eyes.”

They weren’t far from Sholar’s atmosphere. From orbit the only visible things on the planet were the brown clouds, which weren’t exactly inviting, but the atmosphere’s quality wouldn’t be a problem if they were keeping their suits sealed for the entire mission. 

There was the usual jolt as the ship crossed from open space into the atmosphere. There was a disgruntled sound from the dashboard before Kova hopped back into Narti’s lap, who laid a protective hand on the nape of the animal’s neck.

Sholar wasn’t much prettier underneath the clouds. The whole surface was brown, bare rock, with towns and cities built out of yellowish clay. Whatever vegetation or public infrastructure had been there was destroyed by Empire bombs, leaving the houses empty and the cities lifeless. 

The one that was their target was the worst example. It was larger than any of the others they’d seen, large enough to hold hundreds of thousands of people, surrounded by high walls that had been leveled in key areas, allowing Empire soldiers access. Outside those areas were encampments festooned with purple tents, Zarkon’s symbol standing out in proud black. 

“There’s no movement,” Acxa commented to Narti. “I don’t see any troops, refugees, not even any aerial drones.”

Narti didn’t answer, but Kova stood in her lap and leaned over to run her head against Acxa’s knuckles.

She was right, of course. No movement made their job easier. If things were as bad as they looked, no one would be around to question them or initiate combat. So Acxa made herself stop seeing destroyed homes and ravaged land, instead focusing on their destination-- a celmur processing plant, not far outside the city walls. 

Acxa landed the jet in an empty field beside the plant. It was singed, a sizable crater in the center, and the few stalks of what could have been vegetation were flattened and dead. Even through her helmet Acxa could hear the wind, whistling over the desolate landscape. 

But it didn’t matter. Only obtaining the celmur mattered. 

Kova led the way towards the plant, tail high in the air. Narti followed unerringly, and Acxa brought up the rear, blaster drawn in case they encountered Empire drones. 

As of yet there were none-- none functioning, anyway. The ground around the plant was littered with scraps and metal limbs. The inhabitants must have put up a hell of a fight there. 

That thought was confirmed when they reached the front entrance. The doors had been blown clean off, and when Kova reached the threshold she stopped dead, arching her back and hissing.

Instantly Narti slid one foot back, assuming a fighting stance. Acxa took a few quiet steps closer and peered into the gloom of the interior. It only took her eyes a moment to adjust. Then she sighed and shook her head. 

“It’s alright, Narti. Just bodies.”

_ A lot  _ of bodies. They were sprawled across the stone floor, propped against walls, keeled over in corners. Fluids oozed from the corpses in a variety of colors as they decomposed. The air was buzzing with insect wings, their tiny shapes swarming around the eyes and mouths of their victims, carpeting any soft, exposed flesh. Thank the ancestors for their suits-- without them, the smell would’ve been horrendous. 

Narti laid a hand lightly on Acxa’s shoulder. She got the message, a question. 

“They’re Galra. Empire soldiers, it looks like.” They all wore the armor to prove it. 

Narti bowed her head and held out her arms for Kova. Then they ventured inside. 

Acxa had seen a lot of awful things in her life. But moving through that building, the very atmosphere heavy and close with death, had to be one of the worst. Narti’s tail lashed from side to side with irritation, and Kova was wrapped tightly around her neck, ears pressed flat. 

They followed the trail of bodies deeper into the plant. They had to get to the storage bays, where processed celmur would’ve been stored. With its two easily dependable entrance points, it would’ve also been an ideal place for the natives’ last stand. 

Acxa couldn’t shake the feeling of eeriness as they went. Two quintants ago this planet had been conquered by the Empire, completely subjugated. Now it was deserted, inhabited only by the dead. And if they weren’t careful, they could be the next to join them. 

It was easy to know when they’d found what they were looking for. Once again the doors had been removed from the doorframe, one hanging by damaged hinges, the other flat on the ground. Inside were yet more bodies, but these were different-- these were natives. The skin on the corpses was all pale and drawn tight around their skulls, but Acxa could imagine how vibrant the colors must’ve been in life. Unlike the bodies of the soldiers, which had no obvious external wounds, these had many-- burns and entry wounds from laser blasts. 

They’d made their stand and lost, but so had the soldiers. They just didn’t know it until later. 

“It should be here,” Acxa murmured. The planet was so quiet, so empty; it felt wrong to speak too loudly. 

And it would be better not to get caught by drones, of course. 

Narti twisted and plucked a reluctant Kova from her shoulders. Depositing the animal on the floor, Narti waited for Kova to look around and select a place to search before following her. 

Acxa went the opposite direction. The room was lined on both sides with cubby holes, each one taller than her and stacked three high. Inside were boxes which would, hopefully, have what they needed. 

The first box she looked in was up to her shoulders and made of metal, but held nothing but shadows. With a little effort she pushed it out of the way and continued. The second box was also empty, but when she slipped around it to keep searching, she nearly tripped. There was another container about the same size as the previous, but this one was tipped on its side, blocking the entire width of the cubby. She swung one leg over it and climbed on top, then a flash of white caught her eye-- too bright for this dim place. 

Acxa looked down and gasped. 

On the floor below her feet lay a figure in armor. Familiar, white armor, with a scarlet V emblazoned on the chestplate. 

_ The Paladin from the Weblum.  _

With the utmost caution, Acxa stepped over his still form. He appeared to be unconscious, but she kept her guard up as she knelt at his side. 

She hadn’t gotten a good look at him at the Weblum. But now his helmet was gone, sitting a few feet from them like it had been removed and discarded in a hurry, and she could see his face. White skin, so pale it made him look sickly, glistening with sweat on his upper lip and brow. Black hair, thicker and longer than hers. 

Gingerly, she pressed two fingers under his chin. A faint thrumming there confirmed that he was alive. 

She should kill him. He was an enemy of the Galra Empire, he would undoubtedly be an enemy to Lotor once he made his move. She looked down at the blaster still in her hand. The sight of it dragged back a memory. Sitting in her jet, trapped in the Weblum, unsure if she’d ever make it out or die still mired in her failure. 

But he was there. He saved her life. 

The Galra Empire had changed over the millenia, but in some places the old virtues were still recognized. Like honor, and sacred combat, and life debts. 

She owed him. 

“Quiznack,” she hissed under her breath, then activated her comms. “Narti, first cubby on the other side of the room. I found someone.”

The Paladin shifted at the sound of her voice and let out a quiet sound. Not quite a whimper, not quite a groan, but somewhere in between. Then Narti’s footsteps echoed in the cubby, and a moment later Kova was leaping over the tipped box, landing lightly next to Acxa. 

“He’s the one from the Weblum,” she said as Kova gave him a good look over. “The one who rescued me from the jet.”

Kova inched forward and delicately sniffed the Paladin’s face. Then she arched her back and hissed. 

Frowning, Acxa took a closer look at him. She didn’t know anything about his species, but instinctively she felt that the shade of his skin was wrong, that he was perspiring too much, his breathing was too heavy, his pulse too light. 

“He’s sick,” she realized aloud, a cold ball forming in her chest. “... He’s one of us.”

Well, that settled it. Their entire unit, the Prince included, were of mixed blood and shunned for it. She couldn’t,  _ wouldn’t,  _ leave him behind. 

She got to her feet. “Come on. I think I saw some terminals outside.”

Surely enough, hidden as best they could be in a back corner, the natives had assembled a communications center. One that still had power. 

“Here we go.” The visor in her suit translated the screen as she searched through the pages. There had to be some information on the virus somewhere on it. 

After a few doboshes of searching, she finally found something in the message center: an order from someone in city government, instructing them to hold out as long as they could before releasing the virus. Attached to the message was a file, which exploded into hundreds more documents when Acxa opened it.

Frustration consumed her. This virus acted quickly, that was its greatest asset. She didn’t have time to read through all of the science and technobabble. 

As though sensing her agitation, Narti appeared at Acxa’s side, Kova once again perched on the vantage point of Narti’s shoulder. Narti leaned down, lightly laying one of her hands on Acxa’s and the other atop the terminal. 

Almost instantly the knowledge was in her mind. The virus hijacked a Galra’s temperature regulation system, unique throughout the universe due to the harsh climate of Daibazaal, inciting a fever so high that it could induce delirium and loss of consciousness within a varga. Then it was only a waiting game until they died, either of dehydration, or from the fever cooking them from the inside out. With the knowledge came images of labs, scientists, endless research-- and test subjects. Galra, hybrid and full-blooded, kept in cages and left to die. 

Acxa tore herself away. The visions ended just as abruptly as they began, leaving her panting, heart racing, on her hands and knees on the floor. 

Narti didn’t even have eyes, so why could Acxa feel her gaze?

“We have to help him,” she croaked after an anxious swallow. She took a few steadying breaths before forcing herself to stand again, refusing to react to the churning of her stomach. “Did you see anything about an antidote or a treatment in there?”

Narti shook her head, and Acxa muttered a curse. 

“We could try to take him to the medical center of the city. There could be a treatment there, but it would take time, and we don’t know how much longer he has.”

Kova meowed loudly. Narti turned and set off in the direction of the cubby. Acxa followed, pushing down the helpless feeling that was rising in her chest. 

The Paladin was worse when they returned. He’d turned onto his side and curled into a ball, his brow furrowed in discomfort, small sounds escaping through his clenched teeth. Narti laid her hand on him, but Acxa didn’t need to see into his mind to know how long he’d been there. The tremors that were wracking through his body now had been among the images Narti had shown her. He had vargas left, if that. They didn’t have time to search for a treatment. 

She would feel ashamed of it later, but for a moment she panicked. Then Narti reached up and took her hand. 

The image that appeared in her mind was one of the city, as seen from the inside. The ground sloped down from the walls, like the city had been built inside a crater. Not far from the plant was a square with stone pavement, where the Paladin had landed. 

Acxa understood immediately. She opened her eyes and dropped Narti’s hand, saying, “Help me get him up.”

The two of them knelt on either side of the Paladin. Acxa gripped his wrist and pulled it up so that his arm was around her shoulder, but to her surprise he let out a sound of protest as she sat him up. 

His face scrunched up, then with apparently great effort he opened his eyes a slit. “Wh’t…” he mumbled, trying to push Acxa off. “Wh’ts goin’ on…”

“Be still,” Acxa hissed at him. His struggling was ineffective, but it would cost them time that they didn’t have. That  _ he _ didn’t have. “We’re trying to help you.”

Narti ducked under his other arm. They hauled him upright and the Paladin stared blankly at Kova, who was sitting in front of him with her tail lashing warily. 

“‘S that… a cat…?”

“Narti,” said Acxa in exasperation. Narti obliged, laying a clawed hand on the back of the Paladin’s neck. Acxa felt his breath catch as his pupils constricted, then his eyes flashed with a white glow, all of the tension leaving his body at once. 

“Not that much!” Acxa cried. The Paladin had nearly pulled her to the floor with all of his dead weight. “He needs to support himself some!”

Narti obliged, and less than a dobosh later they were upright, the Paladin staggering between them, still under Narti’s control. 

“Alright, back to the jet.”

That was easier said than done. Maneuvering a half dead Paladin was hard, made doubly so by having to dodge corpses as they went. More than once Acxa winced as she stepped on a limb or in a puddle of ooze, and Kova was yowling up a storm, unhappy that she had to get her paws dirty. But eventually they made it out of the building, and once in the bombed-out field, the going was easier. 

His knees gave out the moment they stepped into the jet, and the two of them let him fall. Something had begun to rattle in his throat when he exhaled-- he didn’t have much time left. Acxa didn’t even bother to buckle her harness before taking off. 

Flying low over the city, it was easy to spot the Paladin’s ship among the yellow buildings-- it was the same color red as his armor, and it would’ve been hard to miss a ship in the shape of a lion regardless of its color. 

When she landed, it was easily the most clumsy landing she’d ever made. But she didn’t care. There was something frenzied in her then that she couldn’t explain. All she knew was that she couldn’t let him die. So she didn’t even wait for Narti’s help. She just stooped down, threw the Paladin over her shoulder, and rushed out of the jet. 

Despite her urgency, Acxa found her steps slowing as she approached the Lion. It was rather imposing from close up, towering over her head and towards the brown sky, its eyes gray and impersonal. She’d heard stories about Voltron as a child, but she’d never entertained the idea of it being real.

Now, though, she could feel the power radiating from the Lion. Power… and anger. 

The Lion’s eyes flared gold and locked onto Acxa. A growl rumbled out of its massive throat, making the hair on the back of Acxa’s neck prickle, and she raised one hand in a gesture of peace. 

“It’s alright,” she said quietly. Technically the Lion’s ears were dozens of feet above her, but in its presence she felt the same sensation she got when Narti spoke to her. Curious prodding, an analytical gaze. With the Lion she got another feeling. Bared teeth, ready to kill. 

“He’s your Paladin, right? He’s sick. You need to take him home, as fast as you can.”

For a long moment the Lion just stared down at her. Then, as though having made up its mind, it laid its head down on the ground with a deafening creak of joints, opening its jaws wide. 

As carefully as she could, Acxa pulled the Paladin’s body down from her shoulder, laying him gently in the Lion’s maw. 

Instantly it clanged shut. There was a burst of wind and grit and when the dust settled, the Red Lion was nowhere in sight. The thing was fast. She could only hope it was fast enough. 

A few ticks later she felt Narti’s gaze boring into the back of her head and turned. 

“Let’s go get what we came for.”

* * *

They were expecting the Red Lion’s return. They were not, however, expecting her to return at mach one. The Lion had barely registered on the radar before the whole Castle shook with an impact and the sound of groaning, crunching metal.

“What the hell?” exclaimed Pidge, picking herself up from where she’d been thrown. But she got no answer, as everyone else had already ran out the door. 

She caught up with them at Red’s hangar. It looked like a trainwreck-- Red was sprawled across the hangar floor, jaw to the ground, her claws leaving behind massive rents in the metal, like she’d been going so fast she had to grab on to something to slow herself down. It was a minor miracle that the hangar doors had opened in time to avoid being run over. 

For a moment they all just stood there in stunned silence. Shiro was the first one to wake up, letting out a hoarse cry of Keith’s name and taking off. This time Pidge was right on his heels. Her heart drummed in her ears louder than the group’s footsteps: if Red was flying like  _ that,  _ something had to have happened to Keith. Something worse than they’d ever seen before. 

Red wasn’t completely powered down when the Paladins reached her. She let out a tired sounding rumble at their approach, and when Shiro laid a hand on her nose, she slowly opened her mouth to reveal--

“Keith!” Shiro cried again. Pidge couldn’t see him, but that confusion was quickly answered when Shiro leaned over Red’s lower jaw, looking down at the bottom of her mouth. “He’s unconscious!”

Pidge forced her way past Shiro’s left arm and peered into the maw of the Lion. And there was Keith, passed out, just like Shiro had said-- but he wasn’t just unconscious. No, it would’ve been far less scary if he was merely passed out. Instead he was coiled up in the fetal position, shaking violently from head to foot, practically seizing. 

“Oh, God,” someone whimpered in the background. It could’ve been Lance or Hunk, but Pidge wasn’t really listening. All of her attention was on Keith as Shiro gripped him awkwardly and began to pull him out of Red’s mouth. His helmet was missing, and what Pidge could see of his face was soaked with sweat, his hair matted up around his neck with it. 

“What’s wrong with him?” someone else asked, and Shiro’s face twisted into an expression of horror. 

“He’s burning up,” he reported to the rest of them, already stooping to put Keith into a fireman’s carry. “Something’s wrong.”

“Take him to the infirmary,” Allura ordered, though it was mostly unnecessary as Shiro rushed past her. “Coran, run and activate a pod, quickly!”

Coran didn’t even say his customary, “Yes, Princess,” before taking off, the rest of the Paladins right behind. 

They were only a few steps behind, but when they reached the infirmary Shiro and Coran were already a flurry of activity. Keith had been laid down on a cot, and Coran was at the podium setting up a pod while Shiro began undoing the clasps on Keith’s armor. 

For a second Pidge faltered, unsure of what to do, until Coran cried, “Number Five!” and tossed a tablet to her. “Conduct a preliminary scan while I set up the pod.” Pidge didn’t hesitate to do as she was asked. 

Keith looked even worse up close. He writhed and jerked on the cot, arms and legs pulled in tight and his head thrown backwards, like there was an electric current running through him, with small, pained noises punching out of his throat. With them came an eerie rattling sound on his exhaled breath. She moved to pass the tablet over his head and nearly recoiled in shock-- even from inches away she could feel the heat pushing out of his body. He was running a fever, and it was really,  _ really  _ bad. 

“Lance, Hunk,” called Shiro over his shoulder, never once taking his eyes away from Keith. “Help me get his armor off.” His voice was more steady and controlled now, which seemed to reassure the other two Paladins as they came forward to help, Hunk grasping a boot to pull off and Lance working on Keith’s right pauldron. 

Pidge finished her scan with shaking fingers and sent the data to Coran’s podium. She hadn’t learned enough Altean to properly interpret the information from the scan, but the gasp Coran let out was more than sufficient to kick her into panic mode. 

“He needs to go in the pod,” Coran said, “Now.” He stepped down from the podium and rushed over, shoving Hunk out of the way as he tried to pull Keith upright, his face paler than Keith’s armor. 

“He’s still--” Shiro tried to say. 

“There’s no time!” Coran insisted back, and Shiro pressed his lips into a thin line. Without further argument he helped Coran lift Keith, the three of them stumbling towards the open pod until Hunk joined in the effort. The pod slid shut less than thirty seconds later. 

The infirmary was plunged into silence. All of them stood where they were, waiting anxiously for Coran to tell them what was going on; Shiro right next to the pod, staring at Keith’s drawn face; Hunk, getting a reassuring hug from Lance; Allura, standing in the back of the room with her hands pressed together in front of her mouth; Coran, still fiddling with the pod controls; and Pidge, frozen in disbelief and a creeping fear she didn’t want to acknowledge. 

She was the first one to crack. “What happened to him, Coran?” she asked, finally moving from her spot to join Coran at the podium. “Is he gonna be ok?”

Coran let out a shaky breath and ran his gloved hand over his face. All of that had only taken a few minutes, if that, but he looked like he’d just run a marathon. A feeling Pidge certainly identified with. 

“I’m not sure, exactly, what happened to him,” he said, stroking his mustache. “What I do know is that he was exposed to a virus. A very deadly one-- if we’d been even a dobosh slower, he might’ve…” Coran must’ve seen Shiro blanch, as he decided against finishing that sentence. “We’ll all need to be decontaminated before leaving this room. Until the Castle can analyze the disease and make a risk assessment, we can’t take any chances.”

Pidge probably should’ve been more alarmed by the idea of catching whatever virus had almost killed Keith, but at the moment she was more concerned with the fact that  _ it had almost killed Keith.  _ Thank God for Red and her mama bear instincts. 

“How long is he going to be in there?” asked Shiro. 

“Not long, I hope,” Coran answered as he stepped down from the podium. “The pod should be able to kill the virus, but it’s difficult to say how much damage it caused or how long it will take to heal it.”

Someone put their hand on Pidge’s shoulder, and it wasn’t until then that she realized how hard she was shaking. 

“It’s ok, Pidge,” Lance said softly into her ear. “He’s gonna be ok.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. Pidge turned and buried her face into Lance’s chest, biting her lip until it stung. 

“Aw, Pidge,” Hunk cooed as he joined the hug, wrapping his arms around both of them. Coran was the next to insert himself, then Allura. Even Shiro pulled himself away from the pod long enough for the group hug, and standing in the center, pressed between all of them, Pidge felt slightly better.

But she’d feel even better once Keith was healed. 

* * *

There were so many colors. Yellow, brown, black, white. Orange and purple-- familiar colors in familiar shapes. A face, maybe, with yellow eyes. Those were the things he saw in the darkness, swirling all around in a confused mass, and he didn’t know what they meant, or where he was, or what was happening. 

Then came a break in the chill and a burst of light, and he was opening his eyes to the Castle infirmary, the whole team clustered around the pod he’d just taken his first shaky step out of. 

Pidge was the first to throw her arms around him, squeezing the breath out of Keith’s lungs with her grip. 

“Thank God you’re ok!” she exclaimed, then abruptly released him and gave him a hard punch on the arm. “You have got to stop doing this! One more near death experience and I swear I’ll leash you to the Castle. You’re gonna give Shiro even more gray hair!”

“Hey,” said Shiro. Then all of them were talking at once, everyone having something to say, but Keith couldn’t process it. 

“Wait,” he mumbled. “Wait, wait.”

Everyone quieted. Keith took a minute to orient himself in reality-- he was in the Castle, with the others. He’d been hurt… somehow, he’d gotten home… somehow, and now he was healed. 

But the question remained: “What happened?”

All of their expressions flipped to concern. Shiro moved closer and took Keith’s arm, gently leading him away from the pod and towards one of the cots, and the others parted before him like the Red Sea. They were all being so careful with him; it was eerie. 

“What do you remember?” Shiro asked. 

Keith sat down on the cot and rubbed his eyes, trying to think. What  _ did  _ he remember? “Um… I got to Sholar, like I was supposed to, but…” It was starting to come back now, but it was blurry and vague. “There wasn’t anyone in the city. It looked like there had been fighting, but I didn’t find any bodies until I got to the factory.”

“The celmur plant?” asked Allura, and Keith nodded. 

“Everyone there was dead. The natives, and… I think there were some Galra there, too.”

“Zarkon must have attacked,” said Shiro solemnly. He sat down beside Keith, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t until then that Keith realized that, for some reason, he was still wearing his armor. “What next?”

“I’m not sure,” Keith admitted. “I remember seeing all of the bodies, and I remember the smell when I opened my visor.” That sentence was followed by a shudder-- few things smelled worse than decomposing flesh. “Then I started feeling hot. Really hot. And then…” he frowned. “Everything after that is fuzzy. I think I started hallucinating at some point.”

It had to be that. Delirium was the only way to account for the purple face he’d seen, and the strange shape he could’ve sworn was a cat. 

He shook the thought off and turned back to Shiro. “So what happened? What was wrong with me?”

“Red brought you home,” answered Shiro. He had a small smile on his face, but he couldn’t disguise the tinge of worry in his eyes. “You’d been exposed to a virus. It was… pretty bad.” His hand tightened on Keith’s shoulder. 

Pidge snorted at Shiro’s statement, and Lance muttered, “You can say that again,” under his breath. Hunk was wringing his hands in anxiety, and the Alteans hung back, just observing. 

“Huh.” He supposed it made sense, but the whole thing was a bit unsettling. It must’ve been  _ really  _ bad for Red to come and find him, and for them to put him in the pod while still in his armor. “Sorry I didn’t get any of the metal you needed, Princess.”

Allura waved away his concern. “It’s alright, there are other places we can acquire celmur. If I’d known the planet had been attacked, I never would have sent you there alone.”

“Guess that’s the problem with all of our intel being ten thousand years out of date,” Pidge snarked. 

Coran gave an offended huff-- he always hated it when they trash-talked the Castle-- and the other Paladins laughed. 

The knots in Keith’s stomach hadn’t completely vanished, but he tried his best to ignore it as Shiro helped him up and the group began to move out of the infirmary. Whatever had actually happened on Sholar, he didn’t need to know. He was alright, and they had other places to go for celmur, and that was all that mattered. 

Hunk bumped his shoulder as they walked. “Man, wait until you see what Red did to her hangar.”

* * *

“Was this the same Paladin you saw in the Weblum?”

“Yes, Prince Lotor.” Acxa paused to clear her throat. “He was-- the virus seemed to be affecting him, sir.”

Lotor’s eyebrows rose. “Really? How interesting.” He studied her intently for a moment, then asked, “Did he die?”

Acxa’s gaze skittered to the side, then down to the floor, only for a few ticks before she made them go back to Lotor’s face.

“No.”

The Prince leaned back in his seat and, surprisingly, smiled. “Good.”

Acxa tried not to show her surprise, but Lotor must’ve noticed. He chuckled, covering the sound politely with one hand. 

“At this juncture, Voltron stands the best chance at removing my father from power. When that happens, it will be useful to have some… let’s call it good will, established.”

She nodded slowly. She should’ve realized-- Lotor was a master manipulator. Of course he would see Voltron as a useful tool rather than an enemy. 

“Thank you, Acxa,” said Lotor with a wave of his hand. “Dismissed.”

Acxa saluted, and without missing a beat, marched from the room. 


End file.
